Olive groaned quietly and rubbed her head as she began to wake up. She let out a tired yawn and stretched her arms and spine like a cat before becoming limp again. Her mind still beginning to awaken, she caught attention of the surface beneath her. Why the hell was she on a couch . . .?

She pushed herself up into a sitting position, which caused the soft blanket that had been over her to drop to her lap. However, the moment she was in a perfect upright position, her throat began to tingle, and she held her hand in front of her as a cough rattled through her chest.

What didn't help her considerably yucky awakening at all was the jump scare that was Marcus appearing out of nowhere, box of tissues and a glass of water in hand. "Olive, are you quite alright?" he asked softly as he knelt down in front of her by the couch.

Olive opened her mouth to say, "Yes," in response, but while her lips certainly moved, no actual noise came out from her except a raspy whisper. She froze for a moment. "Have I lost my voice?" she whispered, and then coughed a few times. "Is that—nope, that made no difference. Oh well."

Just as she began to stand up, Marcus held her down with one shoulder with a ridiculous amount of ease. He pressed his hand against her clammy forehead so quickly that her human brain missed it altogether. "Hm, you're running quite the fever."

"How did you-? You know what? No," she rasped, "I'm fine." She messily gathered the blanket into the corner of the sofa and stood up again, but instantly regretted it when she was overcome with another brief yet nasty coughing fit.

Marcus raised an eyebrow at her as she walked across the room towards the bathroom. "So you say. If you are, 'fine', then why does your blood smell infected? If anyone would know for certain if you are ill, it would be those who reside within this building. That includes me."

The tap briefly ran as she splashed her face with water and dried her skin off with a towel. "It's just a cold," Olive reminded him with a shrug. "People don't die from colds. Well, old people do, but that's about it, and they're all pretty near death in anyway."

"But I will not allow you to continue with such a risk," he argued.

She rolled her eyes. "Can't we just get on with the day as usual? Do we really have to dwell on this tiny cold virus?"

He blinked at her. "You've lost your voice, Olive."

"Yeah, I've noticed," she replied snidely, "but still, it's not a big deal. I can just whisper at people. That'll work just fine."

"I won't have you worsening your condition for the sake of pure stubbornness," he responded. "You are ill, whether you like it or not."

"But I-"

Olive never did get around to finishing that sentence. It was within what had to have been less than a millisecond that Marcus had somehow moved her across the room into bed. There were several fluffed-up pillows behind her back keeping her upright and the comforter was already tucked in around her.

In the space of two quick blinks, Marcus left the room before appearing again with the same glass of water and two small white pills. She felt the mattress dip slightly as he sat beside her legs and offered both items forward.

She eyed the pills sceptically. "That's your grand plan? You're drugging me now? Why can't I-?"

Sure, Olive had tried to get up again, but it was useless against someone with inhuman strength, speed, and reflexes. "You speak as if I am your enemy, which I am not. I am trying to bring you back to full health," He opened up her palm and dropped the pills into it, "so do take this medication. Properly."

She scoffed. "Fine," she hissed bitterly, probably more so than necessary, and swallowed the pills down with a long gulp of water. She placed the glass down on the bedside table, and then froze when she realised that it was a bedside table. All of that medication nonsense, and she'd clean forgotten that . . . "This is . . ."

"Relax, Olive," he replied with a soothing tone. "I do not sleep, remember?"

Olive raised an eyebrow. "Then why do you—oh." Her eyes widened in realisation and she found herself almost giggling immaturely. "Oh. Okay then. I guess-"

She had been about to make a crude and childish joke when she was hit by the insuppressible urge to sneeze. The moment she began to sneeze, however, Marcus had handed her a tissue which she ended up sneezing directly into. She groaned and coughed as she pulled her knees up to her chest under the comforter.

"Thank you," she sniffled tiredly.

"So, now that you have remained awake for long enough to realise the condition of your health, do you still wish to continue this day as you normally would?" he asked her, though he obviously knew the answer that would come from the stuffy mess that was Olive.

She huffed, which she instantly regretted since it caused her to cough, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you gonna be like this all day? I need a positive environment to recover in," she argued.

He lightly chuckled and shook his head. "Unfortunately, I will be occupied in a meeting for most of the day." He watched her expression drop subtly, although it was clear that she was putting in a valiant effort in hiding it. "Though, of course, I could always postpone-"

"No, no, no," Olive interrupted quickly, and then took a heaved breath. "No, it's fine, no, you go. I'll survive just fine, and maybe take a nap too while I'm at it."

He placed his hand over hers and squeezed it reassuringly with a fond smile before nodding towards the clock fixed to the wall across the room. Coincidentally, there was a TV directly beside it too. Well, at least she knew what she'd be doing all day. "You can expect me to be back here by 6 o'clock. Is that okay?"

She nodded in agreement. "Oh, and Marcus?" He travelled from the doorway back over to the bed so quickly that she almost suffered a heart attack. "Er, where's the remote?"

True to his word, Marcus returned to his quarters at precisely 6 in the evening. He was pleased to hear from Corin that Olive had been keeping up with finishing her meals fully and remaining in bed, although he hadn't exactly had any doubts from the start. In the kindest way possible, the girl's stomach was an endless vacuum.

He opened the door from the entrance hall to find her in exactly the same place he'd left her in, although she now had a mug of hot chocolate between her hands and was busy intently watching an episode of some kind of sitcom, so intently in fact that she hadn't noticed him enter the room at all. He cleared his throat unnecessarily.

She blinked and paused the TV, turning her head to the side with a gasp. "Marcus," she whispered, although she did attempt to somewhat amplify her voice. "You're back already."

"I see you have no time-keeping capabilities," he responded teasingly as he pointed towards the clock. "Only 1 minute past 6, just as I promised."

"Well there's no need to be like that," Olive retorted. She pointed towards the TV with the remote. "Wanna watch with me? I've been binge-watching this series all day."

"And what series might that be?" he asked as he made his way over to the bed.

"Superstore," she replied. "Seriously, I swear you have every possible TV subscription at this point. You know you have a Funimation subscription too, right? You're even paying for anime."

"Well, as the popular human saying goes, it is better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it." He motioned to the currently very small space beside her on the edge of the bed. "May I?"

Olive instantly shuffled to the side to make room. "Oh yeah, sure, whatever," she responded distractedly. Predictably, the moment she had unpaused the TV, her attention was straight back to the screen.

Marcus rolled his eyes light-heartedly and sat beside her on top of the comforter. It seemed that the moment he became still, she leaned back into the crook of his shoulder comfortably without a second thought. Though her blood still had the strong aroma of illness, it remained sweet enough for him to rest his head near hers to inhale her scent.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he allowed himself to take a glance at the current status of the continuously-developing mate bond they shared. The thin silver metallic strand that held them together appeared to have grown significantly in diameter since the events of the previous evening. It still lacked the brilliant glow that was held by the bonds between his brothers and their mates, but it was a start, and a very good one at that. This amount of development was usually ever seen after several years of vampire mating, for some even decades.

"Um . . . Marcus?"

"Hm?" Marcus tilted his head to the side and glanced down at Olive, who stared up at him from beneath her eyelashes. There was a hint of bewildered confusion within her blue irises.

"You're kinda staring, just a little. It's like you spaced-out or something," she told him, her voice still a hoarse whisper. "You good?"

He nodded and loosely rubbed her shoulder. "Just fine," he replied quietly.

It was dark. Everywhere her head turned, she was met with pure darkness. But while her vision had been entirely drained, she was still left with her sense of hearing, but only that alone.

Although she could feel her feet beneath her. Her legs slowly, with much hesitancy, retracted backwards, one wary step at a time. Each movement she made echoed, somehow.

But the voices, the voices continued without end. Or maybe it was one voice, but she couldn't exactly be certain of that. Nor did she know what they were saying. Only that the tone was eerily familiar.

She only stopped entirely when a little faint waft of breath tickled her neck and brushed a few stray hairs away from her shoulder. Her heart began to pound against her chest, louder, faster, unstoppably, until a sharp pain like nothing she could ever describe sliced through her neck. The feeling of death, of suffocation, of drowning, and the metallic taste that developed on her tongue as she gurgled for air . . .

Olive jolted awake and patted herself down as her eyes squinted into the dim light of the room. No voices, nothing. Only her strained and erratic breaths. Her trembling fingers gripped the comforter, and she shuddered. Her eyes began to sting and her vision blurred.

She felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder. Olive turned around sharply, adrenaline cursing through her veins, only to find Marcus right beside her. "I . . ." She wracked her brain for something to say, but no words seemed to reach her tongue.

Marcus said nothing, only placing an arm over her shoulders to pull her into his cold embrace. However, Olive found herself entirely frozen stiff in his arms. She curled into herself and folded her arms tightly around her body.

Noticing her obvious discomfort, Marcus placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled himself away a few inches to allow her some space. Even if her breathing and heart rate had returned to normal levels, her expression on her face still remained tense, her eyebrows furrowed and her bottom lip being softly chewed between her teeth.

"Olive," he said slowly. She made no effort to look at him or acknowledge him in the slightest. "What is the matter, dear one?"

Olive simply shook her head. The last thing she wanted to relive was that dream. Never had she had dreams so vivid in her life, or so spine-chilling . . .

"You don't want to talk about it?" he asked.

She sniffled, but refused to allow herself to cry. Not again. That was a habit she certainly needed to break. "It's . . . not important," she mumbled. "It's nothing."

"It certainly must be something if it has gotten you so worked up," he countered. Of course he wanted to respect her privacy and avoid prying too far, but watching her suffer like that wasn't exactly an easy thing to do. He reached for a stray piece of her hair and tucked it back behind her ear.

"Just a bad dream." She wiped under her eyes with the back of her hand. "That's all."

Marcus shook his head. He wasn't naïve. It was obvious that whatever disturbing nightmare that had plagued her dream had been somewhat connected to himself, both from the sudden push at their bond and her clearly discomforted body language. But he felt no desire to put her in any further distress, not at all.

"In that case, can I get you anything? Some water perhaps?" he suggested. "You are running quite the fever, and your throat certainly sounds sore."

With a shaky sigh of relief that she wouldn't be made to press the issue any further, Olive shook her head and stiffly settled back against the pillows once more. "I-I'm fine," she insisted, uncertainty hidden in her own tone. "Mhm, I just need sleep. That's all."

Marcus nodded sceptically and reclined back himself, still leaving plenty of personal space so as to not make her feel any more uncomfortable. He folded his arms comfortably over his chest. "You do understand that no harm will befall you here, least of all from me?" he murmured after a few minutes once he sensed her heartbeat coming to a calm and tranquil pace. "You have nothing to fear, dear one. Nothing at all."

Though initially her breath slightly caught in her throat at the mention of her nightmare, her hand curling tightly into her fist and her eyes still shut tight, something within Marcus' tone settled something within herself. She felt her head finally clear and her lungs let out a soft breath as a faint smile graced her lips. Olive nodded in understanding, before finally allowing herself to succumb to her dreams once more.

Marcus rested his own eyes too, his inner turmoil over his young soon-to-be mate's fear finally resolved. However, a soft weight on his arm caused him to open his eyes once more, the faintest of smiles on his face as he noticed her curled up against him with the side of her face pressed against his upper arm.

As gently as possible, he moved her so that she was rested more comfortably against his chest, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. She appeared to flinch for a moment, but that seemed to be a merely reflexive action, as she quickly settled down again and subconsciously pulled herself closer to him.

With that, Marcus allowed himself to relax, stroking Olive's hair back carefully and ever so lightly, so as to not disturb her slumber. If she were to heal as quickly as possible, he knew all too well that she needed the rest.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Author's note: Honestly, I'd update more, but I keep doing the thing where I start a completely separate fanfic, get bored of that, and move onto another one, leaving shit tons of word documents with 1k ish words of nonsense, ugh. On the plus side, I think at least a few decent stories should come out of it in the near future, so stay tuned!

Thank you so much for reading, stay safe, and ily lots!